Act IIIScene III
Bohemia. A desert Country near the Sea
Enter Antigonus with the Child and a Mariner.
Antigonus
Thou art perfect, then, our ship hath touch’d uponThe deserts of Bohemia?
Mariner
Ay, my lord, and fearWe have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly,And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,The heavens with that we have in hand are angry,And frown upon ’s.
Antigonus
Their sacred wills be done! Go, get aboard;Look to thy bark: I’ll not be long beforeI call upon thee.
Mariner
Make your best haste, and go notToo far i’ th’ land: ’tis like to be loud weather;Besides, this place is famous for the creaturesOf prey that keep upon ’t.
Antigonus
Go thou away:I’ll follow instantly.
Mariner
I am glad at heartTo be so rid o’ th’ business.
Exit.
Antigonus
Come, poor babe.I have heard, but not believ’d, the spirits of the deadMay walk again: if such thing be, thy motherAppear’d to me last night; for ne’er was dreamSo like a waking. To me comes a creature,Sometimes her head on one side, some another.I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,So fill’d and so becoming: in pure white robes,Like very sanctity, she did approachMy cabin where I lay: thrice bow’d before me,And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyesBecame two spouts. The fury spent, anonDid this break from her: “Good Antigonus,Since fate, against thy better disposition,Hath made thy person for the thrower-outOf my poor babe, according to thine oath,Places remote enough are in Bohemia,There weep, and leave it crying. And, for the babeIs counted lost for ever, PerditaI prithee call’t. For this ungentle business,Put on thee by my lord, thou ne’er shalt seeThy wife Paulina more.” And so, with shrieks,She melted into air. Affrighted much,I did in time collect myself and thoughtThis was so, and no slumber. Dreams are toys,Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously,I will be squar’d by this. I do believeHermione hath suffer’d death, and thatApollo would, this being indeed the issueOf King Polixenes, it should here be laid,Either for life or death, upon the earthOf its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!There lie; and there thy character: there these;
Laying down the child and a bundle.
Which may if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,And still rest thine. The storm begins: poor wretch,That for thy mother’s fault art thus expos’dTo loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,But my heart bleeds, and most accurs’d am ITo be by oath enjoin’d to this. Farewell!The day frowns more and more. Thou’rt like to haveA lullaby too rough. I never sawThe heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour!Well may I get aboard! This is the chase:I am gone for ever.
Exit, pursued by a bear.
Enter an old Shepherd.
Shepherd
I would there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting—Hark you now! Would any but these boiled brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty hunt this weather? They have scared away two of my best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find than the master: if anywhere I have them, ’tis by the sea-side, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an ’t be thy will, what have we here?
Taking up the child.
Mercy on ’s, a bairn! A very pretty bairn! A boy or a child, I wonder? A pretty one; a very pretty one. Sure, some scape. Though I am not bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape. This has been some stair-work, some trunk-work, some behind-door-work. They were warmer that got this than the poor thing is here. I’ll take it up for pity: yet I’ll tarry till my son come; he halloed but even now. Whoa-ho-hoa!
Enter Clown.
Clown
Hilloa, loa!
Shepherd
What, art so near? If thou’lt see a thing to talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ail’st thou, man?
Clown
I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land! But I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky: betwixt the firmament and it, you cannot thrust a bodkin’s point.
Shepherd
Why, boy, how is it?
Clown
I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it takes up the shore! But that’s not to the point. O, the most piteous cry of the poor souls! sometimes to see ’em, and not to see ’em. Now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast, and anon swallowed with yest and froth, as you’d thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the land service, to see how the bear tore out his shoulder-bone, how he cried to me for help, and said his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an end of the ship, to see how the sea flap-dragon’d it: but first, how the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them, and how the poor gentleman roared, and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than the sea or weather.
Shepherd
Name of mercy, when was this, boy?
Clown
Now, now. I have not winked since I saw these sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half dined on the gentleman. He’s at it now.
Shepherd
Would I had been by to have helped the old man!
Clown
I would you had been by the ship side, to have helped her: there your charity would have lacked footing.
Shepherd
Heavy matters, heavy matters! But look thee here, boy. Now bless thyself: thou met’st with things dying, I with things new-born. Here’s a sight for thee. Look thee, a bearing-cloth for a squire’s child! Look thee here; take up, take up, boy; open’t. So, let’s see. It was told me I should be rich by the fairies. This is some changeling: open’t. What’s within, boy?
Clown
You’re a made old man. If the sins of your youth are forgiven you, you’re well to live. Gold! all gold!
Shepherd
This is fairy gold, boy, and ’twill prove so. Up with it, keep it close: home, home, the next way. We are lucky, boy, and to be so still requires nothing but secrecy. Let my sheep go: come, good boy, the next way home.
Clown
Go you the next way with your findings. I’ll go see if the bear be gone from the gentleman, and how much he hath eaten. They are never curst but when they are hungry: if there be any of him left, I’ll bury it.
Shepherd
That’s a good deed. If thou mayest discern by that which is left of him what he is, fetch me to th’ sight of him.
Clown
Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i’ th’ ground.
Shepherd
’Tis a lucky day, boy, and we’ll do good deeds on ’t.
Exeunt.